


Seekers' Game

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finally gets to play with Viktor Krum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seekers' Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Femme (femmequixotic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmequixotic/gifts).



> **Beta** : eeyore9990
> 
>  **A/N** : Written as part of [hpfemme_love](http://hpfemme-love.livejournal.com/") on Livejournal to [photo prompt #3 on this post](http://hpfemme-love.livejournal.com/1085.html) (filled with very NSFW pictures). Written as required with no more than two hours actually writing, and absolutely no attempt made to imitate Viktor's accent in dialogue.
> 
> Bulgarian translation courtesy of Google Translate.

Harry told himself that it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't allowed Oliver to talk him into going out and celebrating their World Cup quarter finals win.

 _Bugger me_ , he thought as he signed the umpteenth bit of whatever it was that someone shoved in front of him. He squinted at the body attached to the hand. At the blindingly bright outfit and body paint in England's colours. Rubbing his eyes, he said, "No more until after I've had a few drinks."

To his surprise and relief, very few of the fans grumbled, and most of those were shut up by the rest. Even better, a couple of enterprising blokes and one marvellously curvy woman offered to buy for him. He declined, of course, but it was the thought that mattered.

A large Firewhisky and something unpronounceable later, Harry wasn't even feeling the pain from his right shoulder where he'd caught a Bludger. Until some great arse bumped into it, that was.

"Mind the fuck where you're going," he snarled, not bothering to look around. With the adrenaline from chasing and catching the Snitch still running through him, he was as likely to hit the asshole as to give him time to apologise.

He did, however, catch Oliver's placating gesture out of the corner of his eye, and that piqued his curiosity.

"No worries," Oliver said. "Accidents happen."

The voice that said, "Let me buy you a drink as apology," was deep and rumbling, with enough of an Eastern European accent left that Harry's cock reacted as quickly as it had when he'd been a fourth year at Hogwarts.

Tossing back the last of his whatever-the-fuck, Harry swivelled his stool around and leaned back against the bar on his elbows. Appearing nonchalant, he hoped, although he was sure he'd managed to look not-starry-eyed at the very least. "Krum," he said.

"Potter." Krum gave Harry a nod and a quirk of his mouth that might have passed for a smile somewhere on Earth. Then, he curled his upper lip at the bloke perched on the next stool, who suddenly announced that his friends had found a table over in the back somewhere and scurried off.

For a while, it was Harry and Oliver and Krum. There was more drinking and not that much talking, at least not enough for Harry to make a complete idiot out of himself.

"I'm off," Oliver said, stumbling a bit as he slipped off his stool. "Gonna go home with—" he gave the girl under his arm a drunken smile "—Claire here." Halfway to the door, he turned back and yelled, "Practice tomorrow afternoon, Harry. Be there or be hexed."

"Hope she's got some Hangover potion." Harry lifted up his glass and stared mournfully at the bottom.

"I have Hangover potion," said Krum.

"I don't."

"You should come with me, then."

Harry's heart started to speed up, and he slid forward on his seat. He licked his chapped lips and nearly cheered when Krum's eyes followed the movement of his tongue. "Brilliant," he said.

Of course, because that was the way his luck always ran with blokes, Harry wobbled, lost his balance, and all but fell into Krum's arms. To his surprise, Krum caught him and gave him a satisfied smirk rather than shoving him away.

"The walk will be good for both of us, I am thinking." Krum motioned to the bartender and tossed a few Galleons on the bar. Then, when they both had their cloaks on, he slung an arm companionably across Harry's shoulders, and they walked out of the pub together.

*

Krum's hotel room was at least twice the size of Harry's. More importantly, however, the bed was firm, lavishly pillowed, and enormous. Quite possibly the biggest bed Harry had ever seen. He sat on the bed and bounced a little. No squeaks, he thought, and grinned.

"It's a comfortable bed," Krum said, handing Harry a phial of green potion.

"Yeah." Before he could think about it, Harry thumbed off the cap and tossed it down. He grimaced at the taste and the feeling of his head clearing.

"Something to wash it down with?"

"Definitely." Harry accepted the glass that Krum was offering. He swirled the dark liquid inside and sniffed it. Definitely not Firewhisky, it smelled too good for that. Smiling at Krum, he raised his glass in a toast and then tossed it back. The drink burned a little going down, but it was smoother than he'd been expecting.

"Good?"

Harry nodded. "Very good."

Krum's fingers were warm as he took the glass and the potion phial from Harry. A flick of his wand sent them flying over to the table. His wand went back into its holster. "You can say no," he said, cupping Harry's face and running a calloused thumb over his jaw line.

"Why would I do that?"

"It is important for you to have the choice." Krum shrugged. "Also important for you to call me Viktor."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, so he curled his hand around the nape of Viktor's neck, and kissed him. Viktor's lips were as dry and chapped as Harry's. Both of them were unshaven enough that it bordered on having a beard. The touch of their lips, the press of Viktor's tongue into Harry's mouth, the heat and the warmth and the taste of the alcohol they'd just drunk went right to Harry's head, and he swayed into Viktor.

"It's good," Viktor murmured when they parted briefly. He licked Harry's bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth to worry it with his teeth. And when Harry groaned in agreement, he wrapped his arms around Harry, curling one around Harry's arse, and drew them close.

His cock was big and hard against Harry's thigh, and Harry couldn't do anything but rock against it as his own cock swelled. He was enveloped, surrounded by the taste, the smell, the feel of Viktor.

Sliding his hand up into Viktor's hair and holding onto Viktor's hip with the other, Harry gave himself up to the thrusting of tongue and hips. He ached to part his legs and draw Viktor between them, wanted to feel Viktor's skin against his own, but not enough to stop kissing and thrusting. There weren't enough men like Viktor, willing to manhandle Harry, and he hadn't realised how much he wanted it, needed it, until that moment.

Viktor dragged his mouth away from Harry's and up his jaw to suck on the sensitive skin just below Harry's ear. His fingers pressed into the seam of Harry's jeans, right over his cleft, and Harry clutched at Viktor and moaned. He was spiralling, shuddering. He rotated his hips, faster and faster, rubbing his cock against Viktor's thigh in jerky, fast movements, riding the edge.

" _Ела_ ," Viktor said. "Come."

And Harry did.  


~fin~


End file.
